7. Roller Coaster
Alice and I run back home, far enough from the road to avoid human scrutiny. We could have gotten somebody, maybe Jasper, to pick us up, but this is more fun. Once we reach our threshold I stop and, in response to her bewildered stare, I explain that I don't feel like facing the others just now. She hugs me wordlessly, aware that I'm still struggling with my impossible dilemma, and whispers to me that she hopes I will make the right choice. I watch her dance inside the house, and soon ensconced in Jasper's arms, and I take off, practically running away from their display of affections, thoughts churning in my head like waves whipped into a frenzy by the gales of an approaching storm.
I run faster and faster, until the mad pace forces me to focus on my surroundings so hard that the pain throbbing in the depth of my being is at least temporarily forgotten. Instead, I calculate the distance from onrushing obstacles, like tress or rock formations, and plot routes around them or over them well in advance, alert, my brain awash in sensory information and constantly calculating distances and trajectories. Only my years of experience allow me to manage maneuvers that a normal human couldn't even imagine, and at speeds that defy the laws of nature.
I plunge ahead into the indifferent night and, as I often do these days, I avoid inhabited areas and seek the wildest, most inhospitable forests I can think of. Miles flit by, my legs lifting and falling as fast as the pistons in my Aston Martin's engine, while my still heart, as usual, is untroubled; vampires don't have to worry about cardio. Exertions that would kill a human mean nothing to me. Finally, I stop near the top of a mountain, craggy and windswept.
The lights of Seattle twinkle in the darkness ahead of me, blurred by the distance, under a roof of gathering clouds. I'm in an area I've explored many times, probably not far from the spot where I talked to Carlisle and Alice about Brandon's unusual allure. Recently, I often seek to be surrounded by the tiny sounds of the forest, well away from civilization, and to forget myself in the majesty of nature. And yet, at times I like to come to a spot like this, to be reminded, by the distant metropolis, of the presence of normal human beings going about their daily lives, out there somewhere, in a life denied to the likes of me.
Tonight, neither the company of the wilderness nor the bittersweet scenery brings me any peace. I sit on rugged rocks, vaguely aware of wildlife scuttling away from me through the underbrush, and my mind fills again with all the questions and worries that have been plaguing me in recent months.
At first, I think of how my brittle plans have been shredded and torn asunder by a simple twist of fate, and how easily the future I was trying to build for us collapsed under the weight of my newfound jealousy.
It starts to drizzle, but that doesn't bother me. I just watch Seattle's radiance smudge the gloom that surrounds it, wishing, once more, that I could be one of those oblivious mortals. I finally wrench my thoughts away from those impossible fantasies and brace myself as I prepare to look at the few options reality still offers me.
Living next to Brandon, ignoring him and my feelings, won't work, and it would be dangerous, for both of us, to keep pretending otherwise.
I allow myself a little happiness when I remember Alice's belief that the boy might desire to be closer to me, like I crave to become a bigger part of his life; it's soon drowned by an impromptu slideshow, projected on the walls of my brain, that features him either as a withered corpse, drained of life and meaning, or an inhuman monster, red eyes glowing in the darkness.
No, I shout loud enough to drown the sound of raindrops pitter-pattering on ferns, tree trunks, leaves, needles, bark and moss-wrapped rocks. Even if Alice was right, I can't condemn him to either future, but what can I do? Only one answer comes to mind: I must go away and never come back. Maybe, just maybe, if I put enough miles between us and go on to explore new lands it might help a little. Then I shake my head… I know better, and I know that won't be enough, but there are other options. If I leave for good, and my family is lost to me, there are other vampires, in an underground lair of theirs buried in the catacombs of faraway Rome, who could help me find a more definitive solution to my misery.
I could leave now; in fact, if I really intend to do it, I should. The thought of telling Esme and Carlisle that I might never see them again brings an all-encompassing, bone-deep aching that rivals all the agony I've been going through since Brandon's arrival. My father risked everything when he saved my life; I was the first person he had ever turned, and his first companion. He didn't truly know how I would react to his gift, or how hard it would be to control me… And yet, he didn't hesitate, and if it wasn't for him I would have never seen or learned so much in the years that have since transpired. I would have died a child, barely aware of the world around me and all the beauty and sadness it had to offer… And Esme, my mother, how could I look into her eyes and tell her death is preferable to my family's love? No, I cannot do that. Besides, if anybody could change my mind, convince me to stay in Forks, it would be them. I can't risk it.
That means I can't go back to the house either; if Alice catches a psychic whiff of my intentions she will intercept me.
And yet…. I shouldn't even consider this, but there is a remote chance that Alice could be right, that Brandon might reciprocate my feelings. If that's the case, my departure might make him unhappy as well. Of course, whatever feelings he might harbor toward me wouldn't change the danger my presence by his side entails; if I slip, and let my instincts take over, it would lead to his death and I now know I could never bear the ensuing guilt.
I shake my head, and look away from the city, my mind turning inward to look for a way out of my predicament. Liquid eyes blink tantalizingly in the rain as I think of Brandon, as I try to picture his face, in every agonizing detail, right here, right in front of me, a ghost borne out of the loneliness of a night in the forests. If I'm leaving tonight, and I don't know what other path, if any, is open to me, I suddenly realize I would like to see him one more time, perhaps even listen to his music. My heart feels like it's breaking again, but before I can second guess myself I stand erect and sprint away from this lonely ridge in the direction of his home. Yes, I think as I zip through the forest, unmoored and adrift on a murky ocean of self-doubt and despair, I must see him one more time. Despite the pain, I understand he also brought me a gift; because of him, human feelings I thought had passed away when my heart had stopped have been miraculously revived. And of course he even inspired emotions I had never felt before. Despite the pain, I'm grateful. Anything, I realize, is preferable to the limbo that my life had become before his arrival.
When I reach chief Swan's home, it's later than I thought, already well past midnight. All the windows are steeped in darkness; the entire building is silent. Brandon and his father must have already gone to bed.
I perch on a bough not far from Brandon's window and resume my thinking. Alice was right, I'm not seeing things clearly, and I'm not getting anywhere. My thoughts are stuck in a loop. As much as it pains me, I know I must go now and never, ever come back. I really have no other choice. I know I won't be with him, but I'll never forget him, and maybe I could at least imagine how it would have been like to go to the dance with him… And for a few minutes I do just that; I close my eyes and, almost blissful, I envision asking him out and beaming with happiness when he says yes. I think of the two of us, decked in our best garbs, as we slowly spin and sway across the dance floors, our limbs entangled, the feeling of his warm flesh against the coldness of my own, his deep green eyes staring into the depths of my mines; the imagined pleasure and the pain of its illusory nature threaten to rip me to pieces once again.
No, I tell myself as I suddenly jump off the bough and gaze at the living gloom crouching in wait for me in the forest, this is too much. If fantasies are all I'm going to have I must at least wait until I've put as many miles as I possibly can between the two of us. Just as I'm about to disappear from his life, and jettison whatever chance I might have had to be truly happy, to embark on a path filled with murk and loneliness instead, I hear him mutter a few words. Is he awake? No, I don't think so. I also hear him turn, sheets rustling around him. He must be speaking in his sleep. It shouldn't really matter, I know, but now that I picture him there I am harpooned by a longing so fierce I almost stagger; didn't I come here to see him one more time? What harm could that do? His eyes will be closed, but I've never seen his room and now I'm suddenly curious. If fantasies are all I'm going to have, firsthand knowledge of his place might add a little more substance to them.
I stand still and listen carefully, but no, as I suspected his father is asleep as well. I hear him snoring in a corner room. So I climb the front wall of the house until I'm just under Brandon's window. This is kind of reckless, since any passerby would spot me easily, but there aren't many neighbors, here at the edge of town, and it's very unlikely anybody will be out and about this late in the rain. I'll be fine.
When I try to lift the window, at first it doesn't budge. It must be jammed. I only have to exercise a fraction of my strength to shake it lose and open it wide enough to slip inside.
Anybody seeing me might think I'm just a despicable stalker, a lecherous peeping tom, but I remain unfazed. For one thing I'm not here to spy on him, to watch him undress or do any of the other things that the perverts in movies seem to enjoy; I just want to look at him one more time, even inhale more of its tantalizingly delicious smell, anything that will help me remember him. This is also trespassing, true, but why should I care about human laws? I'm not really human, right? They don't apply to me. My family and I have a strict code of ethics, but we have broken many of their laws all the time; it's just the way it is.
And so, since that's why I'm here for, I sit down on an old, rickety chair and stare at Brandon. He's turning now, his sheets and blanket whispering indecipherable incantations. He's wearing an old long-sleeved t-shirt, his arms outside the shelter of his covers. He looks so weak, so fragile, and yet, once again, my heart feels like it's beating again when I'm in his presence. Outside, the drizzle has stopped and I hear the myriad nocturnal creatures in the forest go about their business. A soft breeze has parted the clouds and a waxing, almost full moon peeks at me through a ragged gap in their fleecy folds. The dusty orb, and Brandon's guitar, silently waiting in a corner of the room, remind me of his playing and send a fresh wave of pain through every fiber in my body. I step closer to the window, ready to climb down and embark on what could very well be my last journey. If I can't be with him, it's probably for the best.
I take a deep, unnecessary breath, savoring the frustrated hunger his scent brings, but he's not in danger now; my heartache is so overwhelming that my natural instincts, at least for tonight, have no hold on me.
Hello darkness, my old friend, I sing to myself as I take one more step. Once I'm outside, I will start running and I won't stop, not for a long time, but getting to the window won't be easy; I don't want to do this, and the carpet feels like quicksand under my feet. As I'm about to straddle the sill, I hear his voice.
"Lynn." I freeze in my position and turn to stare at him? Did I wake him up? No, his eyes are still closed; he turns and scrunches his blanket closer to him, still far away from here, in the lands ruled by Morpheus. But if I didn't wake him, why did he utter my name? Is he dreaming about me? Could I really be on his mind that much?
"Come to me." He says, his features twisting as if in pain, as if I'm denying him what he wants. Inner lightning sizzles as my innards burn. He's not only dreaming about me; he wants me to stay with him.
I just stand there, stunned, or, more aptly, shell-shocked. Alice was right, and so was the voice in my head that kept teasing me with hints that he might be waiting for me, the voice I discounted as wishful thinking.
The fingers and claws that had so stubbornly clung to the rocky surface of the metaphorical cliff I'd been trying to scale suddenly relax and let go, all their strength spent.
Standing there, bathing in the moonlight and looking at Brandon's fine features, I feel myself cutting through the air, in freefall at first, plunging into nothingness…
But I feel no pain or fear now. I'm not falling into the bleak, dank abyss of my fears. I'm not falling any more at all. Instead, I'm soaring now, above the chasm, above the jagged, wrinkled edges that looked so distant and imposing, above silent forests and buzzing cities, above oceans and clouds, until the night sky is filled only with images of Brandon. The light of the moon has shattered into a million tiny confetti, gossamer blossoms, melting snowflakes. The dusty orb fills the view, brighter than any sun as long as his face is there, close to me and in my heart, and I feel moonlight tendrils seek out my pores, enter me, and seep through every inch of my body.
For the first time in a life time that spans more than a century, I am truly, completely and unequivocally in love with a man, and I know I will be for the rest of my life, however long or short it may be. Replaying his words in my mind, over and over, I am filled with a kind of happiness I had no idea could even be possible and I wish this moment could last forever. I could spend the rest of eternity right here, in this room, listening to him call to me in a dream.
He can't love me as much as I love him; I don't think a human ever could, really, but he has strong feelings for me. He must. That's why he turned down his other suitors. That's the only reason he might be pleading for me to stay with him even in his sleep.
More agony rocks my world when I think of how I must have hurt him with my rudeness and of the risks this turn of events will bring about, but now that I know that there is truly some hope we could be, somehow, together, that it is something he might want too, I know I have no choice. The love that has filled my soul, silent and unstoppable like the moonglow permeating every nook and cranny of my consciousness, tells me that I have no free will left.
I take another deep breath. Yes, the air scorches my mouth and throat, but it doesn't matter, I know my love is stronger than my hunger. There are dangers, of course. I will have to be careful… But if he wants me too, maybe there are ways we could be together without fulfilling any of Emmett's and Alice's dire predictions. It won't be easy, but I must try. I have no other choice. I could have maybe stepped outside this window and kept running away for the rest of eternity before, when I had no inkling of his real feelings, but now it's not an option.
Another thought sends my mind reeling; most humans are instinctively afraid of us, or distrustful, but not him. Or, if he is afraid, his fear is clearly weaker than his desire. I feel giddy, again, the Earth so tiny and faraway that I'm afraid I'll fall out of the solar system and never find my way back.
I cannot do that, so I sit down again and breathe liquid fire in at regular intervals. I have to inure myself to this hunger, accept it, learn to live with it and the pain it brings; the pleasure that his mere presence will always stir in me is well worth it. I sit and start thinking of my next moves. I have to talk to him again, and make sure I haven't misunderstood his sleep-talking. I must ask him a question and find out what his answer will be.
Early in the morning, with the first feeble sunlight drifting into the room through the flimsy curtains, I have to leave before Brandon or his father wake up and realize they have an uninvited guest. I jog back home through the forest in the rain and run up to my room where I get out of my soggy clothes and into something dry. I find myself in front of the mirror, really wondering what I should wear for the first time in my life. Alice takes care of my wardrobe, so usually I just grab whatever I find closest. Today, however, I ponder over every little detail. I end up going for some tight fitting jeans and my favorite purple jacket. I can't reveal much skin, but I suppose there's nothing wrong with wearing clothes that show off my figure.
When I meet the others and we head to school, Alice smiles brightly as soon as she sees me. I smile back at her and the others exaggerate their surprise at my improved mood. Even Esme seems uplifted; she noticed too. Father is already at work.
"I don't know what happened, sis, but I can see we're finally going to talk to him. I'm glad." Alice trills, winking at me.
"Alice." I scold her while we pile in the car and drive to school. "What's the point of getting to know him if you still think I might end up killing him?"
She shrugs and lets it go for the time being. Only once we are in the parking lot she pulls me aside, telling the others to go ahead without us. Jasper looks unhappy but Alice won't be denied.
"You have a point, Lynn, and you need to be careful, but don't be so negative. Trust yourself. So, are you going ask him to the dance?"
It's drizzling now, but everything is wet and cold; the forest is drenched in rain, water dripping from every branch. Even the concrete of the parking lot is dotted with puddles.
"Actually, I have a better idea…But…" We hear the asthmatic rumble of his truck approach. Out of the blue, I start second-guessing myself. What if the dream was unrelated to me? What if I'm just making farfetched assumptions? He might also know somebody else called Lynn. I'm starting to think that it might be better to just observe him a little longer. I'm not sure I'm ready. I tell Alice so, after confessing I heard Brandon speak my name in his sleep.
Her features harden and she taps her right foot, impatient.
"Lynn Cullen!" She thunders despite the slightness of her frame. "Don't you dare postpone this conversation! It's hard to remember you are one of the bravest persons I've ever met. What happened to you?"
"But Alice, this is so hard. I have never even had a boyfriend, as you know. I…." I see Brandon get out of his car. He hasn't noticed us yet, but he's scanning the lot. It's best to wait for another chance; I need more time to think of the right words.
"No more procrastinating, sis, let's just bite the bullet…" She announces with an impish smile, and without waiting for an answer she dances away from me and straight at Brandon. I could easily catch up with her but there are too many witnesses. I have to walk as slowly as a human. I stride toward her but she's already next to the boy.
"Hi Brandon, I'm Alice. It's nice to finally meet you."
I shout her name, but of course she pays me no mind, infuriating me even more.
"We'll talk later. There is something Lynn wants to ask you." She winks at him and she's off.
"Alice, I'm going to kill you for this." I holler at her, for an instant really irate.
"No, you won't." Alice yells back, before punctuating her point with a tinkling, bell-like laugh. "You will thank me."
She's impossible; she's my sister and I love her, and I know I won't hold a grudge, but she can drive me mad at times. For the time being, I have to regain my composure. She hasn't left me any choice. I have to talk to him. But what, exactly, should I say? Why couldn't I ask Alice for more specific advice instead of trying to back down?
"Good morning, Brandon." I say with a tentative, almost apologetic smile, my mind still frantically plotting.
"Good morning." He replies cautiously; his smile goes from puzzled to hopeful and then to guarded in half a second, and I chuckle, trying to hide my own nerves. He misunderstands me, not that I blame him, and snaps a moody retort.
"Did you want to ask me something or do you just want to mock me?"
Yes, he's still upset. I must have hurt him deeply, and of course he doesn't know my real reasons. Maybe I can try to show concern for him; that might help mend our relationship.
"No, I was just wondering if you are okay. I mean, you seemed to get hurt in the soccer game."
"Oh, right," He stutters back, his skin gently reddening. I wish I could touch him…. But no, that's unthinkable. His company is all I can hope for. Anything else could only lead to tragedy.
"I'm fine. It's just a cracked rib. It only hurts when I move too suddenly."
He peers at me, looking a little stunned although I can't quite understand why. I find it difficult to concentrate when I look at his eyes, so open, and yet deceptively so; his mind is still a mystery.
Something shifts and a hint of anger resurfaces in his voice.
"You know," He mutters as he sets out toward the buildings, "trying to keep up with your moods is like riding a roller coaster. You're making me seasick and giving me whiplash all at the same time. I thought you said we shouldn't be friends….."
Was that a note of… anguish, in his voice? I was right. My behavior really affected him. I will try to make amends for it, if he gives me a chance to do so. But he's not wrong in his assessment. I have been so moody lately. He doesn't know, but I have been on an emotional roller-coaster as well, one that is, for me, completely unexpected.
I decide that, for the time being, I should at least try to be honest, without giving away any of my family's secrets.
"I said we shouldn't be friends, yes, but that doesn't mean I don't want to be." I try an earnest smile. I'm certainly being truthful now. He seems to be pondering something.
"You stay up at night to write cryptic remarks you will use the next day on me?"
I can't help laughing this time. The way his face scrunches up when he's confused is so funny. And yet, my mood is lightening, floating away like an untethered balloon. We are talking again; I'd been pining for this very moment for so long. I must try to remain casual, but I still need to ask him a question. It's so easy to forget my original intentions when I'm with him.
"You could say that…. But I'm sorry…." I finally add. "Despite Alice's help I'm really not good at this. You sidetracked me." I bite my lip again, tense. He affects me so deeply too. There's no denying that. But he doesn't need to know that, not yet.
"I didn't mean to annoy you. I just meant to ask you something…."
Remember, Lynn, keep it light, keep it jaunty.
"Okay." He mumbles, but he also seems happy we are talking again. I don't notice any of the little signs of annoyance he displayed when those strumpets were asking him to the dance.
No more sidetracking: I need to ask him a question and get it over with.
"So, you know, about a week from now, next Saturday. The day of the dance…."
"You gotta be kidding me." He stops walking and glowers at me, maybe over-reacting to words I only meant as gentle teasing. "I thought you said you didn't want to annoy me."
"Let me finish, please…" All of a sudden, my facetiousness is gone. His answer could change the entire course of my life; it's a turning point. I must forge ahead.
"I was teasing you a little; forgive me. Anyways, you said you are going to Seattle that day, right?"
"Yes," He replies hesitantly. He seems to be pursuing a train of thought agonizingly unclear to me.
"I was wondering if you would like a ride…."
"A ride?" His puzzlement only complicates things this time; I won't be laughing any time soon. "With who?"
I can't help rolling my eyes this time.
"With me. Obviously." I speak slowly, but softly, trying to convey the sincerity of my words.
"But why?"
Isn't it obvious? I thought most humans would understand the implications. Why didn't Alice warn me things could get so complicated?
"Well, I was worried your truck might not make it all the way there."
I try to joke again, but something bothers him.
"My truck is fine."
"It's pretty slow, and not good on gas."
He's not looking at me now; he finds his feet a lot more fascinating. What does that mean?
"That's not your problem, though. Is it? I'm grateful you saved my life but that doesn't mean you have to help me out all the time."
Have I hurt him? Why is his voice so sad? Was he hoping I had some other reason for asking him to go to Seattle with me?
I have an intuition; he must be as new to all this as I am. I have to stop joking around and get my answer. If that means showing how much I crave his company, so be it. As I gaze into his eyes, I forget all my plans, and my caution, and really bare myself to him.
"It's not that…." I tell him, as I gaze at him with all the tenderness and desire I can muster. "It's just that I'm so tired. Staying away from you is too hard. I don't think I can do it anymore." More words that just spill out of my mouth without consent, but I'm glad. That was as honest as it could be. Time to get my answer, and if it's a no, well, I'll have to accept that too. I don't know what it will mean for me but it doesn't matter anymore.
"Will you go with me to Seattle?" I finally utter, standing there, waiting for the words that I know will change my life forever, one way or another. He remains quiet for a few seconds only, but my mind is overclocking, and vampires already perceive time differently; to me those instants feel like an eternity.
"Okay." He mumbles, a little dazed.
He said yes. He turned the others down because he wanted me to ask him out. I am so happy part of me wants me to climb to the roof of the school and shout, with all my might, that Brandon said yes to me. I wish the whole world would hear this. Belatedly, I notice he's so stunned he has stopped walking. He's already half a step behind me. I look at him one more time.
"I'll see you in class," I say just before almost running away, still shocked by the extent, and the content, of our conversation. Alice, bless her silly heart, was right. But, damn, I actually won't be seeing him in class this afternoon. His presence scrambles my brains so thoroughly I'd forgotten I have other plans.
The morning classes are a feeble drone I pay little attention to. I meet up with Alice and Jasper for one of them, and my smile tells them what Brandon's reply was before I can put it into words. Alice looks pretty smug; she understood him better than I did, despite observing him a lot less. Emmet and Rosalie, when we meet them outside the cafeteria, also notice the changes I've undergone. When we walk in, though, they are also surprised when I pick an empty table for myself and let them sit at our usual one without me. Alice winks at me and explains to the others that I plan to spend lunch with the boy today. Rosalie is not happy but I couldn't care less.
So I sit and watch the entrance, some food laid out in front of me as a prop. When Brandon walks in, with some of his habitual friends, I observe him carefully and I see him cast a glance at my family's table. When he doesn't see me, his entire demeanor seems to change. Could he be upset because he didn't see me? Does he think this morning I was just joking around? He must really care about me…. The thought brings me an equal measure of joy and agony; the fact that he seems to like me doesn't reduce the amount of obstacles we will have to overcome, or the threat I pose to him.
In the meantime, I wonder how to attract his attention, but Eric, bless him, takes care of that for me when he whispers in Brandon's ear that I'm staring at him again. He looks up immediately and scans the cafeteria again, until he sees me.
"Yeah, she is." Jessica adds, somewhat needlessly. A peek at her thoughts confirms she definitely sees me as her main rival now. Partly to spite her, I wink at Brandon and wave him over.
"She winked at you dude…" Eric mutters, apparently shocked by this turn of events.
"Go talk to her, Arizona. Don't be an idiot." Jeff adds for good measure. I wish I could thank him. Disgusting fantasies aside, he's not such a bad guy.
"Yeah, I guess. Maybe it's something about our French homework."
I'm still worried about the possible consequences of all this, but he starts in my direction and I have to smile. In a way, this is another confirmation that he likes me.
"You're not sitting with your family…" He says to me, standing close to the table, maybe disbelieving that I really want him here with me. I know he's shy, but after this morning I figured he'd know I like him too.
"I thought I'd rather sit with you today…. If you'd also like to, of course…." I tell him in my gentlest voice, worried I might scare him off. I wonder whether I'm being too direct now.
"Okay. This is different." As soon as he agrees, I push a chair toward me with my foot, still trying to keep it casual. He grabs it, sits and puts down his tray. He still looks a little confused.
"What brought all this on?" He manages to ask, biting a morsel of his pizza.
"I'm going to hell anyways. Might as well enjoy it."
Not sure where those words came from. They were honest enough, but maybe a little too much so.
He swallows loudly and his eyes quiver, caught between emotions I can't recognize
"You realize you are not making any sense right? And if sitting with me is like going to hell I can leave you alone…."
"It's not what I meant." That is also true.
"Okay," He adds after a little more chewing. "What did you mean then?"
"I was just talking too much. I always do that when I'm with you."
He facepalms, rather endearingly.
"I see. It's all cleared up then." Yes, he's still confused by my latest mood swing. "Do you ever speak plain English? Or anything remotely comprehensible? Is that asking too much?"
"I…. there are things I cannot tell you. I'm sorry." Oh Brandon, you don't know how much I wish I could be more straightforward. I'm not enjoying all this either, but I can't just blurt out the truth, at least not now. I can at least try to explain myself a little better though.
"It's for the best. I also have my family to think of. But I'm here, right? I wanted to sit with you….." I look down. Am I giving away too much? Am I being too intense again?
"I swear, I hear and understand every word you say and yet I just feel like I'm lost in a dense, dark forest on a foggy day."
"That's what I'm hoping." Truer words have never been spoken.
He eats more of his food in silence, thinking about my words.
"You stumped me again."
I laugh out loud, not because of what he said but because of something I heard in his friends' thoughts.
"Your female friends are trying to bore a hole in your back Brandon. They can't figure out why you're sitting with me. And your girlfriend is really upset. She's looking daggers at me."
"I don't know what you're talking about. I don't have any girlfriend. And my friends will survive…"
Yes, he couldn't care less about Jessica, and he wants me to know that in no uncertain terms. It feels like my dead heart could come back to life and start doing backflips. If only our future wasn't so uncertain…
"I might not give you back though." I add without thinking. Well, that was also pretty honest, if nothing else.
"Does that scare you?" I ask him in a teasing tone.
"No, maybe the opposite to tell you the truth. It thrills me a little. But I'm surprised, pretty much flabbergasted really, and you realize you're still not making any sense. Are we friends now, then?"
"I suppose," I say. I would like us to be a lot more than that. I want so many things now. I'm still aware of the darkness in wait for us if I make any mistakes, but maybe it's too late. Maybe the biggest mistake has already been made. He knows I want him too now.
"But I have to warn you. If you're smart, you'll stay away from me."
I can't stay away from him, but I can at least try to warn him. I hope he's listening, and yet I hope it won't matter.
"Does anybody in your family have schizophrenia?"
"I know you're joking," I reply, saddened. It almost felt like he was reading my mind. "But I can see why you might think that. I wish I could explain myself better…." My voice fades to a whisper. The silence of his mind still drives me up a wall. This time I can't hold my questions back.
"What are you thinking?"
He frowns. I just look at him quizzically.
"I'm thinking that it would be nice, once in a while, to have a conversation with you that doesn't involve enigmatic remarks specifically designed to mess with my mind. Or a clarification as to how you even learned to talk like that. Did you take a correspondence course?"
I laugh at first. I like his dry sarcasm, but my hilarity is short-lived; he's clearly irked, and I realize he has a bit of a temper. I suppose I deserve this.
"It would be also nice to understand the reasons why somebody might save my life, in unusual circumstances, and then treat me like garbage for more than a month. In other words I would like to know what is going through your mind, actually."
"I apologize, I can't be clearer for now. I'm sorry." How I wish, once again, that I could tell him everything. For a moment, my heart sinks. What am I doing? Sooner or later he will at least understand how different I am; why would he want to stay with me once he learns the truth?
"Well," he adds, his voice softening, "if being smart means I'd have to stay away from you, I'm afraid I'm pretty dumb. I'm not sure I can be objective about things, especially when you're involved."
He's confirming he likes me, isn't he? I experience another brief high, but come crashing back to earth soon enough. When he learns the truth…. The thought corral my nascent smile and I revert to a neutral expression, torn between joy and sorrow.
"You know…" He's not done talking. I try to shake off my fear and refocus on his words. "You asked me to go to Seattle with you. Now we are sitting together… I don't have any experience when it comes to girls but…. It seems like…."
"What?" I don't get what he means, unless… no, that can't be….
"No, nothing, forget it…."
I try again to read his mind, to no avail.
"This is so frustrating…" I hope he can't hear the agony in my voice. "Won't you just tell me what you mean?" If it wasn't for the presence of witnesses I wold beg him. What did he mean? He couldn't possibly imply….
He blushes and shakes my head. I won't get anywhere, I can tell. Let's change the subject.
"Okay, tell me something else then. Have you come up with any theories….? About me…? About the way I saved you?"
Surely this won't embarrass him, and it might help me learn more about his thought processes. I'm curious, but not too worried. He thinks I'm fast and strong, and sure, vampires are all that, but these days humankind's collective consciousness is also filled with super heroes with similar abilities. The most defining trait of vampires, their inability to walk in the sun, is already disproved by my presence here. But what is he thinking then? He doesn't seem afraid of me. If he guessed too much, though, my family will be upset.
"Some." He promptly replies, relieved. "Nothing too original, I must admit."
"Can I hear them?"
"Sure." He pauses for a few maddening instants, but finally starts talking.
"I think the most logical ones make sense. You could be a mutant, born with unique abilities due to genetic mutations of some kind. Your family reminds me a bit of the X-men. Alternatively, well, maybe some kind of experiment? Some kind of super serum….."
It's almost like he read my mind… But no, he's just being more predictable than usual. Most kids are obsessed with comic book characters, now spilling into movies and TV series.
"You think I'm a superhero of some kind?"
I actually find it funny. Our secrets are safe for the time being.
"The evidence for that is fairly solid…" He blushes again, and my throat hurts when I inhale a lungful of his scent. "You have strange abilities and you did save my life, remember?"
"Yes, but….You read too many comic books." I can't help teasing him a little; I hope I'm not going too far.
"And no, you're not even close." If I have to be honest, I have to dispel these fantasies at least. Maybe try to warn him at the same time.
"I'm not?" He's disappointed. He must have put a lot of thought into his theories.
'What if I'm not a superhero? What if I'm the villain of the story? The monster?"
This could work. It's truthful, and a message of sorts, a sign. Is he going to interpret it correctly?
"Oh," He snaps his fingers, his mood changing, his eyes shining with the light of comprehension. "I get it. You are dangerous. Even if my guess is incorrect, you and your family have some secret to protect. And hanging out with you guys can be hazardous. It would also explain why you don't fit in. I can see all that. But I will never believe you're bad. That's ridiculous. It's just what you want people to think so they stay away from you. It won't work with me."
"You don't care if I'm dangerous?" Is this even possible? And yet he seems so relaxed now; he doesn't display any sign of fear or unease. He really wants to be with me. I want to earn his trust so badly, but I know I don't truly deserve it. Not yet.
"Wait, where's everybody?" He's right. Most of the other kids have already gone to class. We were both only interested in each other, the world outside our little bubble drab and uninteresting. Wouldn't that mean that we also have similar feelings for each other? For an instant I almost feel dizzy.
"Going to class." I tell him, still distracted.
"I see. We'd better go then." He's already gathering his stuff.
"I'm ditching class this afternoon. My grades won't suffer."
I wish I didn't' have to, but later on, in biology, they'll take blood samples. I could go to French with Brandon but we don't want to just ditch the blood tests. It would look weird.
Sometimes life is full of ironies. I sat in class with him for a month and a half, without saying a word, and now that we have finally started speaking again I won't be able to do so for a while. I wish I could cry.
"I'll see you tomorrow then?" If I read his expression correctly, that's what he wants. In fact, I sense a negative reply will disappoint him. Unfortunately I don't have a choice.
"No, I'm going hiking with my family. I'll see you next week."
"I see," He mumbles, hanging his head. I wish I could hug him right now. "Okay, sorry, I have to go. Dad will hear it right away if I ditch."
"Okay, I'll see you later."
I watch him trudge to class, clearly reluctant to part from me. My heart fills with joy and I decide to let it. I go to my car and play Claire de Lune on the Radio. The boy said yes to me. For one afternoon, at least, I just want to enjoy that thought. I listen to the music, thinking of his gentle eyes, of how his features harden when he's upset at some perceived injustice, or the melancholy he experienced when we separated. I can't wait to see him again.
